


Ad Infinitum

by lindsey_grissom



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-02
Updated: 2008-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsey_grissom/pseuds/lindsey_grissom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There is more to them than myths and legends, but these are the things that stay when they leave...</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ad Infinitum

**Author's Note:**

> For the [wintercompanion](http://community.livejournal.com/wintercompanion/) _myths_ challenge.

They'll whisper about them at night, under the covers, books lit by torch light. Two giants; two champions; two Gods; two heroes. Always two, though it will be said they'll sometimes be found with more.  
Young girls will want to see them, be the Princesses these handsome knights will save. Young boys will want to be them, to join them, they won't admit it, but they wouldn't mind needing saving either.

Parents will tell their stories with more embellishment than the two ever could. They'll become the Santas, the Easter Bunnies, they'll be the Jack Frosts waiting to nip at dirty toes.

Mothers will use their names to threaten disobedient sons. Fathers will convince daughters to wait for the two to come along.  
Grandparents will pretend to know them, their stories more outrageous with each telling.  
They'll have place mats at seasonal dinners, and once a year every family will lay out a banana and hyper vodka, only one set not thrown away before the children can see the next day.

Governments will lay claim to their support while their rivals do the same. Peace keepers and healers will raise their glasses to the first, the armies and defenders to the second; they will all raise to them both in the end.  
Temples will be built and demolished in demonstration of their anonymity. Holidays will celebrate their comings, festivals their leavings. Worlds will unite over their names, spoken like coded signals.

History books will list them as real, no images or agreement on description will turn them into considered myth. Legends will be created for them, mixing with the ones they will make for themselves. Literature of them will abound, rumours will circle in gossiping wheels. Sightings will make women swoon, make men puff their chests and stand tall. Red carpets will roll without a single tread, back doors will be kept unlocked just in case.

From one corner of the Universe to the others, their stories will be heard in more forms than ever believed, their lives splitting and binding to the unrecognisable. They will be models for honour, sacrifice and love.

But right now, the Doctor looks towards his current Companion, rolls his eyes and orders her to run; natives with arrows close on their tails.  
Captain Jack Harkness looks across his Hub at the rift alarm and reaches for the phone; his team on speed dial, dressing even as he talks.

They have no idea what they will become, even with time travel they will be forever unable to see themselves the way others will. It will be the true magic of their legend; this doubt they will always have of their own worth, but not ever of each other's. These two, that will outlive others' stories, but not their own.

 

**End.**


End file.
